


that can’t happen to us

by dashwoods



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-03 02:22:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14558772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dashwoods/pseuds/dashwoods
Summary: Sometimes Bernie and  Serena play a game, where they talk about their old lives, their lives before. They play “what if” - what if Serena hadn’t divorced Edward, what if Alex was never assigned to Bernie’s unit.





	that can’t happen to us

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little fic about Bernie and Serena talking about their past lives. Title from “A Matter of Trust” by Billy Joel

Sometimes Bernie and  Serena play a game, where they talk about their old lives, their lives before. They play “what if” - what if Serena hadn’t divorced Edward, what if Alex was never assigned to Bernie’s unit.

It inevitably leads to talking about their past, the good times and the bad. “What if you were married to Edward when we met?” Bernie asks softly, elbow resting on the back of the sofa, fingers in her hair. Serena reaches up to touch Bernie’s cheek, just slightly, because she can, because she likes to, then drops her hand to pick up her wine glass.

“Then I think he and I would’ve had to have a difficult conversation at some point,” Serena says. She smiles. Edward was shit at a good many things, but he never shied away from the needed conflict that a marriage necessitated.

“What if Marcus left you before you’d gotten....” Serena doesn’t like to say the words, but she knows Bernie catches her meaning.

“Then I think he and I might have happily co-parented for the rest of our days. And he’d come over for dinner once in a while, and the three of us would eat together and talk about all the ridiculous things Cam and Charlotte have got up to.”

In every “what if,” Bernie and Serena are still together, Serena unable to think of a scenario that would keep them apart, if not even Kiev, not even death, nothing, could stop the love she feels for Bernie.

“What if you’d moved in with Robbie?” Bernie asks, more willing to indulge in the game than usual. Between the two of them, she tires of it sooner, just ready to think about their present and their future, to lean and kiss Serena’s lips, lead her upstairs.

“Maybe Three’s Company, but with two gay people,” Serena says with a low chuckle, sipping at her wine, letting the liquid roll around in her mouth. “With Jason as Mrs. Roper.” That gets a laugh from Bernie too, the hoarse beginnings of her guffaw.

“He was handy around the house. Fixed that cabinet, stopped the sink in the bathroom from dripping,” Serena says, a fond smile gracing her features. 

“I can fix things,” Bernie says, her tone a little begrudging, a little jealous, and Serena leans in, her smile widening, presses her forehead to Bernie’s.

“One more reason you win out every time, dear heart,” she says, can feel the smile on Bernie’s face even if she can’t see it.

Before she moves away, she kisses Bernie, her lips hitting Bernie’s nose, then her cheek, the side of her mouth, her lips. “Every time,” she says again, her breath warm, reflecting back on her own skin.

“What if we’d met in medical school?” Bernie says in response, her voice wet, her eyes damp.

“I don’t know if you would’ve liked me back then,” Serena says. “I think I had to marry Edward, to have Elinor, to meet Jason, to become the person that was right for you.” She sniffs. “Besides, I was a swot.”

“You don’t think we could have had years together?” Bernie asks, her free hand grasping at Serena’s, playing with her fingers.

“I think we still have years together.” Serena smiles, feels the wetness at her eyes too. “Besides, you didn’t know who you were back then either.”

Bernie nods, a smile quirking her lips. “We would’ve just been friends, endlessly circling each other. And then one night after studying for hours, I might’ve leaned in, tried to kiss you.” She spins a story with her words, and Serena can see it clearly, can picture Bernie’s hands in her hair, so much longer then, thinks of the few photos of Bernie she’s seen, her features even more angular somehow.

“And then you would’ve transferred away to another university,” Serena says, though there’s no bite to her words. And then I might’ve married Edward anyway.”

“Mmm,” Bernie hums, squeezing Serena’s hand. “Edward. That -“ The vitriol starts to thread into her words, and Serena holds up her hand, pulls it from Bernie’s grasp, her fingers mere millimeters from Bernie’s lips.

“For all he was a terrible husband at the end of things, he had his good qualities.” Serena feels mature for being able to say this, wise and generous with her words. “He was always good at getting me flowers. Remembering important dates. I never did think of our anniversary until he brought it up first.”

Bernie harrumphs a bit. “Do you want more flowers?” she asks, as if she’s ever bought Serena anything of that sort before.

Serena laughs, clear as a bell, tilting her head back, her neck long, stretched. “Not in the least. I’m not with you as a replacement for Edward.”

Bernie nuzzles into her neck, her lips warm and wet. “Can I still think he’s a tosser?” 

Serena closes her eyes at the sensation of Bernie’s mouth on the pulse point of her neck, her lips sliding along the tendon. “Mmmm. Just as long as you remember he was a tosser I once loved.” Bernie stops short, pulls back from Serena, her dark eyes staring into Serena’s when her own open.

“What?” she asks, her hand going under Bernie’s chin, her thumb rubbing her cheek slightly.

“I can’t hate the men you’ve been with?” Bernie asks, and Serena lets the pad of her thumb pull at Bernie’s mouth ever so slightly, feels Bernie’s tongue dart out so quickly to wet the digit.

“Oh, you can hate whoever you want. I just - it’s a little insulting to focus on all their flaws, all their deficiencies, because it belittles me, a woman who cared about them deeply.” Bernie’s eyes go thoughtful, appraising, and she presses a kiss to Serena’s thumb, gentle and sweet.

“What if you married Edward, had a daughter, divorced Edward, and became the head of AAU?” she asks softly, her eyes tracking Serena, darting back and forth.

“What if you had two children with Marcus and went away to the army, met Alex, then accepted a job at Holby?” Serena says, cupping Bernie’s face in both her hands. 

“What if I met you on my very first day and knew in an instant I wanted to know everything about you?” Bernie places a kiss on each of Serena’s palms in turn, lets Serena draw her in, press their lips together.

“What if you were rubbish at fixing cars but I was still charmed?” Serena asks, her eyes bright, her mouth smirking, and Bernie kisses the expression right off her face, bends her back against the sofa, presses their bodies together.

“What if we -“ Serena cuts off the end of the thought with her mouth, sliding her tongue between Bernie’s lips. 

“There’s no ‘what if’ that doesn’t end with us right here,” Serena says when she pulls away, her voice breathy. She thinks this might be the last time they ever play the game.


End file.
